


The Mighty Fall

by eratothemuse



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Gore, Murder, Unhappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 11:42:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16973958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eratothemuse/pseuds/eratothemuse
Summary: Nothing could have prepared you for the carnage that Deucalion brought upon your pack. Does the fact that you are his mate mean anything to him?





	The Mighty Fall

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this Imagine: Imagine being the only one of Deucalion’s Betas he couldn’t kill because you were his mate.  
> This was a request for anon.  
> \- Meg <3 xx

It could have been you. It would have been you, had Deucalion not urged you to stay behind, naïve in his trust of the hunter’s code as he assured you the meeting with Gerard Argent wouldn’t be difficult at all. You should have known the hunter wouldn’t keep his word. You should have stopped your mate from going down that dangerous path.

Then again, deep down you knew that nothing you would have said could have stopped Deucalion once he had in his mind a vision of how to make something better. He was always so full of hope and trust in the good of people. Not to mention, being the Alpha, he would do what he wanted either way.

But as you parked outside the Animal Clinic, the thoughts running through your head were not those of inevitability, but those of how you could have prevented this horror of horrors from befalling your mate.

It wasn’t until you opened the door, bell jingling against the glass, that you realized something much more terrifying had occurred in this place than had happened in that barn. The blood scented the air, rusty and putrid in a way that made your nose wrinkle and eyes flash yellow with feral instinct to follow the scent that was gut-wrenchingly familiar. Fear gripped your heart as you noticed how deathly silent the Animal Clinic had become, even the animals seemingly sensing the danger that was still lurking there.

It was when you passed through the open mountain ash barrier that you saw the blood, staining the floor in a streak that suggested something, or someone, had been dragged across it as they kicked and screamed and fought for their lives in vain. And the worst part was how you were beginning to place the familiar scent, and you knew the blood belonged to a member of your pack.

Thoughts were rushing through your head as you found yourself with claws out, fangs poised in an almost silent and defensive snarl as you tried to figure out what you had just walked in on. Had the hunters come back? Declared an all-out war on you all? How could they justify this slaughter, when some of your pack still remained teenagers and children? How could they justify killing those that had not fought against them? With Gerard at their helm, you found a way to believe the scenario weaving it’s way into your mind. The hunters had come for you all, killing for the sake of extermination. The inevitable fight that Talia’s younger brother always spoke of had finally come, without even so much as a blast of light as warning.

But as you crept into the back room, stealthy despite your fear, you find a much worse, harder truth, “Oh my god.”

Blood dripped down his arm, trailing across his fingers which were covered in a vile, sticky sheen of red, any coloring of his own skin masked by it, before inevitably falling to the depths of the floor. His eyes were wild with an insanity that you’d never seen before on him, round and feral as he panted over the lifeless corpse of his victim.

And you knew the young wolf that lay over the veterinarian’s table, eyes cold in their lifeless gaze across the room. It was directed at you, but unseeing and unfocused in the death that gripped him. Your own eyes watered as you shook in fear, shock, grief. The bodies of your pack, every last one of them, lying on the cold tile of the office floor that was dampened by their equally as cold blood.

“What have you done, Duke?” your voice sounds foreign as it shakes, nearly getting caught on the nickname you had for him. You don’t know how long you had been standing there, but you know he had heard your entrance from the moment you entered that jingling door, and had not turned on you yet. It was your blind trust in your mate, despite what you saw, that kept you from fleeing.

His elongated ears twitch, and you notice he looks almost distorted in his wolfish features. His actions having turned him into the monsters humans call you in storybooks. The ones who hunt in the night, ripping children to shreds in their beds.

He looked like the monsters you had never wanted to be.

But your voice, God, your voice seemed to snap him from whatever consumed his senses, flinching away at the sound of it, “Don’t look at me.”

“Duke—?” you take a step, only for him to growl at the sound of your boot tapping on the tile.

“Don’t come closer!” his voice was low, dangerous as he shook with something you had never seen before. What happened when an Alpha took the lives of his Betas? What kind of toll would that take? You began to realize that you were witnessing it… And it looked like power.

“Please— What happened? What happened to the pack? Who did this—”

“You know who did this.”

“No, no,” you felt the tears fall at this point, a hiccup sticking in your throat as your nose burned with the scent of death around you, “No! You wouldn’t do this! My gentle mate wouldn’t do this—”

And you don’t realize how close you had moved to him until he’s gripping your arms and shaking you with a growl, “I cannot be called your mate. I am changed!”

“Deucalion!” the full name slips from your chapped lips in the heave of a sob, the blood on his hands soaking through your shirt, “I thought you wanted peace! Your vision—” Your plea turns into a startled yelp when you are soon thrown away, possibly with more force than he had intended, but you would never be certain. He ascends on you, hand at your throat quicker than you had ever seen before, and you are crying as his eyes glow that red that had once been a promise of safety, rather than wrath. And you can’t find the strength to fight back, whatever little good that would do against this Alpha.

“That vision was taken from me from the tip of an arrow!” he is wild above you, eyes frightened in their angry red as a watery tear of his own begins to fall with the blood blooming where his claws press into your throat, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“You aren’t this,” you begin, “You are a good man.”

“I am not the same man!”

“But I love you,” your hand grips his wrist, stilling him as you let out your last hope, your last begging whisper, “Please, Duke.” But the way he blindly searches your face only makes your tears fall harder, blinding you as you are reduced to a sniveling mess of whimpers under his hand, unable to see the way his own shoulders shake.

But he slips away from you, leaving you breathing hard and terrified as he shouts, “How could you love a Demon Wolf? Leave, (Y/N), or I will kill you where you sit.” Scrambling to your feet, your watery eyes making your fleeing from the clinic difficult, but as you run into the counter, you keep going despite the stabbing pain in your hip, or the throbbing of your head.

But of your injuries, none of them hurt worse than the ache in your heart.


End file.
